Après la lecture de
Qui sont les anges gardiens de Samuel Socquet et de
Nos âmes oubliées de Stéphane Allix j'ai eu envie de creuser certains thèmes développés dans ces ouvrages pour en savoir plus. C'est ainsi que je me suis plongée dans ce livre cité en référence/bibliographie, "
Voyage aux confins de l'esprit / How to Change your Mind de Michel Pollan". Cet écrivain, journaliste au New York Times est aussi un auteur scientifique spécialisé dans les plantes et la nutrition si bien que la question des psychédéliques - au travers notamment des "champignons hallucinogènes" et leur psylocybine* - constitue une sorte de prolongement de son domaine de prédilection.
Dans cet essai, il nous entraîne dans une quête à la fois personnelle et journalistique sur les traces de ces drogues psychédéliques au parcours semé d'obstacles : objets d'études pleines de promesses après la seconde guerre mondiale et la découverte du LSD synthétique, démonisées et totalement interdites à la fin des années 1960 sur des critères plus politiques que scientifiques rationnels et connaissant, de nos jours, un très discret retour en grâce qui permettra peut-être de les sortir officiellement de la clandestinité dans laquelle elles sont toujours plongées. Les perspectives d'applications sont aujourd'hui prouvées et bien réelles pour certaines maladies mentales (dépression, dépendance, anxiété), pour les malades en phases terminale et fonctionne aussi, pour des individus issus de la population générale, comme clé d'ouverture individuelle au niveau de la conscience.
Esprit cartésien confronté à une expérience qualifiée de mystique, Michael Pollan nous offre une étude passionnante, étayée et rationnelle, très complète, faite de témoignage à la première et à la troisième personne, d'éléments historiques, sociologiques, anthropologiques, scientifiques et médicaux qui, au-delà de la question des "altérations psychiques" provoqués par l’absorption de substances psychédélique nous entraîne sur les chemins de la conscience et de ses mystères, le sens de la vie et de la mort, notre place dans l'univers.
Facile à lire malgré certaines répétitions et longueurs. Un ouvrage de vulgarisation pour se mettre à la page avec beaucoup d'éléments de réflexion sur la conscience vers laquelle semblent finalement converger des domaines très différents commençant à communiquer et à s'enrichir les uns les autres (sciences, chamanisme, méditation, etc.). Fascinant !
* J'ai d'ailleurs noté tout un chapitre dédié au monde des champignons, captivant !
Tirés du texte :
Something important, and special, about psychedelics : the critical influence of "set" and "setting". Set is the mind-set or expectation one brings to the experience, and setting is the environnement in which it takes place.
Compared with other drugs, psychedelics seldom affect people the same way twice, because they tend to magnify whatever's already going on both inside and outside one's head.
What is striking about this whole line of clinical research is the premise that it is not the pharmacological effect of the drug itself but the kind of mental experience it occasions - involving the temporary dissolution of one's ego - that may be the key to changing one's mind.
Psychedelics are far more frigthening to people than they are dangerous. Many of the most notorious perils are either exaggerated or mythical. It is virtually impossible to die from an overdose of LSD or psylocybin, for example, and neither drug is addictive. After trying them once, animals will not seek a second dose, and repeated use by people robs the drugs from their effect.
The efficiencies of the adult mind, useful as they are, blind us to the present moment. We're constantly jumping ahead to the next thing. We approach experience much as an artificial intellingence (AI) program does, with our brain continually translating the data of the present into terms of the past, reaching back in time for the relevant experience, and then using that to make its best guess as to how to predict and navigate the future.
The term "psychedelic", coined in 1956, is etymologically accurate. Drawn from the Greek, it means simply "mind manifesting", which is precisely what these extraordinary molecules hold the power to do.
Dalai Lama had said, that the idea that brains create consciousness - an idea accepted without question by most scientists-"is a metaphysical assumption, not a scientific fact."
[Stanislav] Grof, who has guided thousands of LSD sessions, once predicted that psychedelics "would be for psychiatry what the microscope is for biology or the telescope is for astronomy. These tools make it possible to study important processes that under normal circumstances are not available for direct observation."
[Richard Griffith]. I've given lots of drugs to lots of people, and what you get are drug experiences.
What's unique about the psychedelics is the meaning that comes out of the experience.
What doomed the first wave of psychedelic research was an irrational exuberance about its potential that was nourished by the drugs themselves - that, and the fact that these chemicals are what today we would call disruptive technologies. (...)
[Leary, 1963] "Make no mistake : the effect of consciousness-expanding drugs will be to transform our concepts of human nature, of human potentialities, of existence."
LSD was tryly an acid, dissolving almost everything with which it came into contact, beginning with the hierarchies of the mind (the superego, ego, and unconsciousness) and going on from there to society's various structures of authority and then to lines of every imaginable kind : between patient and therapist, research and recreation, sickness and health, self and other, subject and object, the spiritual and the material.
Other societies have long and productive experience with psychedelics, and their examples might have saved us a lot of trouble had we only known and paid attention. The fact that we regard many of these societies as "backward" probably kept us from learning from them. But the biggest thing we might have learned is that these powerful medicines can be dangerous- both to the individual and to the society-when they don't have a sturdy social container : a steadying set of rituals and rules-protocols-governing their use, and the crucial involvement of a guide, the figure that is usually called a shaman.
"Consciousness narrows as we get older," Gopnik says."Adults have congealed in their beliefs and are hard to shift (...) whereas children are more fluid and consequently more willing to entertain new ideas. If you want to understand what an expanded consciousness looks like, all you have to do is have tea with a four-year old."
It's still early days in our understanding of consciousness, and no single one of our vocabularies for approaching the subject -the biological, the psychological, the philosophical, or the spiritual-has yet earned the right claim it has the final word.
Jeffrey Guss (...) interprets what happens during the session in terms of the psilocybin's "egolytic" effects-the drug's ability to either silence or at least muffle the voice of the ego. In his view, which is informed by his psychoanalytic training, the ego is a mental construct that performs certain functions on behalf of the self. Chief among these are maintaining the boundary between the conscious and the unconscious realms of the mind and the boundary between self and other, or subject and object. It is only when these boundaries fade or disappear, as they seem to do under the influence of psychedelics, that we can "let go of rigid patterns of thought, allowing us to percieve new meanings with less fear."
Existencial distress at the end of life bears many of the hallmarks of a hyperactive default network, including obsessive self-reflection and an inability to jump the deepening grooves of negative thinking. The ego, faced with the prospect of its own extinction, turns inward and becomes hypervigilant, withdrawing its investment in the world and other people. The cancer patients I interviewed spoke of feeling closed off from loved ones, from the world, and from the full range of emotions; they felt, as one put it, "existentially alone".
(...)
These medicine may help us construct meaning, if not discover it.
(...)
However it works, and whatever the vocabulary we try to explain it, this seems to me the great gift of the psychedelic journey, especially to the dying : its power to imbue everything in our field of experience with a heightened sense of purpose and consequence. (...) To situate the self in a larger context of meaning, whatever it is - a sense of oneness with nature or universal love-can make extinction of the self somewhat easier to contemplate.
[Bertrand Russell] An individual human existence should be like a river : small at first, narrowly contained within its banks, and rushing passionately past rocks and over waterfalls. Gradually, the river grows wider, the banks recede, the water flows more quietly, and in the end, without any visible break, they become merged in the sea, and painlessly lose their individual being.
The usual antonym for the word "spiritual" is "material". That at least is what I believed when I began this inquiry-that the whole issue with spirituality turned to a question of metaphysics. Now I'm inclined to think a much better and certainly more useful antonym for "spiritual" might be "egotistical". Self and spirit define the opposite ends of a spectrum, but that spectrum needn't reach clear to the heavens to have meanings for us.
A spiritual experience does not by itself make a spiritual life.
Integration is essential to making sense of the experience, whether in or out of the medical context.
Or else it remains just a drug experience.
Sur la question de la conscience, voir aussi :
Titre original : How to change your mind (The new science of psychedelics)
Titre français : Voyage aux confins de l'esprit (Ce que le LSD et la psillocybine nous apprennent sur nous-même, la conscience, la mort, les addictions et la dépression)
(Titre édition poche : les nouvelles promesses des psychotropes)
Auteur : Michael Pollan
Première édition : 2018
